


The Allegory of an Immortal Dog

by SilverEclipse119



Category: Half Life VR But The AI Is Self Aware
Genre: Gen, I guess Sunkist is also there in a way, Needles, cannon-typical swearing, mention of experiments, non-human fetus, not really enough to warrant tagging him I think, these are basically just mild warnings, what a strange set of tags
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-29
Updated: 2020-10-29
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:54:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27173413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverEclipse119/pseuds/SilverEclipse119
Summary: Bubby and Tommy meet for the first time.
Comments: 13
Kudos: 36





	The Allegory of an Immortal Dog

**Author's Note:**

> **Warnings:**
> 
>   * Brief mention of needles
>   * Brief mention of experiments being done on Bubby
>   * Presence of a non-human fetus (dog)
>   * Cannon-typical swearing (mild)
> 

> 
> Let me know if you think I missed anything! Enjoy!

“Okay, I think that’s enough for today.” 

Bubby held still as his consciousness wavered back into focus. The hose shifted uncomfortably at the base of his neck. He continued to hold his knees against his chest as he waited, suspended in a fetal position a few feet off the floor. He bit his tongue and forced himself not to tense up as the needle end of the tube slid out of his skin, wiggling a bit as it got stuck and bobbed loosely in the green liquid that surrounded him. He hated it when _that_ guy was on the tube controls. The _other_ guy at least knew how to operate it more smoothly, how to make the process as fast as possible so there was less discomfort. Not that Bubby would ever tell _either_ of them that. 

He poked around his brain for his newfound knowledge. Some more physics, some more chemistry and - as usual - no biology knowledge that could be of any use. 

“Should we do another test? Reflexes maybe?” 

Bubby kept his eyes closed and didn’t move. 

“Nah, I think he fell asleep. We should let him rest, there was lots of complicated material in this session. Besides, I’m hungry.” 

“Yeah, me too. At least we don't have to feed _him_ on top of everything else. Heh, say, remember back when he used to sleep with his eyes open?” 

“Oh yeah! Scared the shit out of me a couple times! Thank god those days are over.” 

Bubby continued to hold his tongue between his (not nearly as sharp as they used to be) teeth as he listened to their retreating footsteps. “ _Almost there…_ ” 

“Say, should we shut everything down? And turn off the lights?” 

“Nah, I think the new guy wanted some time in here.” 

“Oh, I was wondering why they set up that table. Should we really let him in here, uh, without supervision?” 

“Look, the higher-ups seem to trust him. Plus, I think he’s too cautious to be of any danger.” 

“Ha-ha, right! What was it again? More careful than a raccoon stealing a cookie from a trash can?” 

“Oh, Yeah! I almost forgot he said that!" 

"He sounded so earnest too! God, we sure do have some freaks around here, I mean, have you seen that guy with all the cybernetics and-” 

Their conversation cut off as the door slid shut. Bubby waited a few minutes to see if they would come back. Once he was certain it was all clear, he stretched out. His joints popped as he stretched his spine back and reached upward, then he shook out his arms and kicked his legs to start working out the tingliness of being still for so long. 

He sighed into the green liquid around him as he took in the room. They really _had_ left all the lights on. And here he had been planning on _actually_ getting some sleep. 

He leaned forward and ran his hand down the glass. Orange energy burst from his skin as he pressed against it. The glass creaked, but didn’t budge. He blew a raspberry as he watched the energy drain off of his hands. Shimmering particles drifted up the central layer of the glass, collecting somewhere out of sight in the top of the tube. A moment later a puff of orange mist burst into the green liquid. Bubby inhaled as he felt the little bit of power return to his body, reabsorbed through his skin. 

He traced his fingers against the glass again, but didn’t test it this time. The oil of his skin left a few smears. He observed them for a second, then used his pointer finger to draw a downturned bracket underneath and a couple of eyebrows over top. 

The sanitation part of the green solution cleaned away the angry face quickly, but it couldn’t do the same for Bubby’s expression. 

He grabbed his knees and flipped himself upside down. “This sucks! I’m so bored!” He sulked quietly, swinging his head from side to side. “Bored! Bored, bored, bored-” 

He froze when he heard the door of the lab slide open. “ _Oh, shit! No! Go away!_ ” 

His eyes were drawn towards the sound of large sneakers plodding across the cement. The blurry form of the unknown person looked like they were walking across the ceiling due to Bubby's inverted view. Yellow laces became clear as the shoes came to a stop in front of his tube. 

The feet then turned, and moved on past. 

Bubby shook his head as his eyes continued to follow the walking legs. “Uh…” 

He let go of his knees and pulled his head upright with a quick stroke of his arms, his legs remaining suspended above himself as his chest rested against the bottom of his tube. 

The scientist had stopped in front of another table, a fresh workspace just to the right of his tube. Bubby wondered when he had missed them setting that up. It must have been during the test. 

Bubby strained and squinted his eyes for a better view. Even from the blurry distance the scientist seemed… young. Of course, Bubby knew his views on age were a bit skewed. The other scientists had mentioned several times within earshot that Bubby had been aged up for the sake of his tissue stability. Plus, he had approximately ten school years' worth of studying implanted directly into his brain every other day. Sometimes it even came with some college memories as an accidental bonus. It was probably best not to ask where it came from. 

The young man glanced over his shoulder at the door. He didn’t even look at Bubby. He reached into his coat and pulled out a small tube, about the size of a soda can. Bubby could see orange liquid inside that seemed to be moving with a familiar viscosity. The man placed it on the table. 

He tapped his fingers nervously for a moment - giving the table a cursory glance - before picking up a small glass bottle. He held it up to better catch the light. 

“Whatcha got there?” Bubby asked flatly, his curiosity overpowering any worry of receiving a punishment for talking to this guy. 

“ _Hahh!_ ” the man jumped. The bottle in his hand slipped up into the air. It jumped around between his hands for a bit, bouncing off the tips of his fingers, until he got his grip back on it. His hands fell - bottle and all - onto the table as he hunched over, bowing his head and sighing with relief. 

“Woops.” Bubby grinned, only half apologetic. He crossed his arms under his head and rested his chin on them. “And here I thought you would have seen me. I _am_ the most impressive thing here, after all.” 

The man stood back up, this time looking right at Bubby. “Sorry. I didn’t- I didn’t see you.” 

“Clearly.” Bubby kicked his legs and paddled his arms in circles until he was more or less sitting criss-cross applesauce on the bottom of his tube. He still ended up a few inches from the ground. “Did they forget to mention little old me when they hired you?” 

“Uh, yeah. This is- isn’t- this isn't really my department. Not all the time, anyway. They just made me this area for the next step.” 

Bubby waited for him to elaborate, but he just continued to stare. Bubby tilted his head and prompted: “Of...?” 

“Of...?” 

“Yes, the next step _of..._?” 

“Oh! The next step of my per- my personal project!” He picked the orange tube up from the table and held it up for Bubby to see. 

Bubby squinted at the blurry orange cylinder. “What is that? Some kind of beverage?” 

“Oh, sorry, I’ll bring it closer.” He stepped around the table and approached the tube a bit. Bubby pressed his face against the glass. He still couldn’t make it out. 

“Uh, could you…?” 

“Closer?” 

“Yes.” 

He took a few steps forward. 

“Oh, don’t be so hesitant!” Bubby snapped, the small tube still too blurry to see through. “I don’t bite! At least, not these days. Not since my earliest prototypes.” 

“Right, okay, sorry.” He came up and set the tube right against the glass. 

“Much better, thank you.” Bubby peered into the vibrant orange. There was something suspended inside. It was a bit translucent; he could see tiny bones and a little heart. It had delicate looking limbs tucked against its chest and tummy, and had a distinctive snout as well as long ears pressed to the sides of its head. There was just the beginnings of fur sprouting on its body. 

“Er, what is that?” 

The man bounced from foot to foot excitedly. “That's Sunkist! He’s gonna be my dog! He’s gonna be the best dog in the whole world!” 

“Oh, how so?” 

“I’m going to make- he’s going to be immortal!” The man pulled away as he returned to his table. 

“An immortal… dog.” Bubby muttered to himself. “Let me get this straight… you were hired into a company that is currently working on teleportation, that’s experimenting on interdimensional beings, that’s creating the _ultimate_ human life form from scratch, that's trying to reach the utmost limits of motherfucking outer _space_ \- and you're making an immortal dog?” 

“Uh-huh.” The man replied, picking up one of the foil wrapped packets from the table and carefully reading the label. 

“You know, that’s pretty sick. Can’t lie.” 

“Thanks.” He slid a small blade underneath the seal to open the package and poured its powder contents into a large beaker. “This is a per- just a- this is just a personal project though. I do have an actual job here.” 

“Oh?” 

“Immortality research.” He said simply. He picked up the same bottle from before, scrutinized the label one more time, and unscrewed an eye-dropper cap from it. “I’m- we’re making a device for immortality together. I only wanna use it on Sunkist though.” 

Bubby chuckled. “Not that I’m disagreeing, but why only the dog?” 

“The others- the other scientists are too nice. I don’t trust- nice people- people who are nice like that are usually hiding something. Usually saying things about you behind your back. That’s why I only hang around mean people!” He smiled again, for the first time since he introduced Bubby to Sunkist, and broke his gaze from his work for just a moment to meet Bubby’s eyes. “Mean people are usually more honest- more open about how they feel about you. They have less- they're not hiding themselves as much. So if they say you're their friend, you can probably believe them.” 

Bubby held his gaze as he uncrossed his legs and stood up, only his toes remained against the floor as his momentum caused him to drift upward. He leaned his elbow against the glass and held his cheek, grinning. “You might just be smarter than you sound, squeaky voice. What’s your name?” 

The man continued to smile as he turned back to the beaker, dropping a few drops of lemon juice colored liquid into it. “My name’s Tommy. And of course I’m smart, I’m a scientist.” 

“Working on making an immortal dog, no less.” There was a bit of forced sneer in Bubby’s voice. 

“The best dog in the whole world!” Tommy reminded him, seeming to ignore Bubby’s tone completely. “I’m looking- I’m so- I can’t wait! Every day I’m going to go home after work and... and feed him, and walk him around my neighborhood!” 

Bubby tapped his cheek, waiting for more. Tommy screwed the cap back onto the bottle. After about thirty seconds Bubby spoke up again. “Wait, is that it?” 

“Is what it?” 

“You’re making an immortal dog and all you’re going to do with it is feed it and walk it?” 

“Don’t be- that’s not- that’s ridiculous, of course not, don’t be silly!” Tommy let out a short chuckle. “I’m gonna play with him too! And clean up after him! And brush him! A dog is a _big_ responsibility!” 

“Well, yes. Of _course_!” Bubby agreed sharply. “But, I mean, your dog is going to be immortal! Don’t you want it to, I don’t know…” Bubby trailed off. “I… don’t know…” 

“It’s the simple things that make having a dog worth it! I mean, he’s- he’ll be bulletproof, and fireproof… basically all-around death proof… but that’s not the _point_ of a dog! A dog is man’s best friend! A dog is meant to be a friend! Sunkist is meant to be _my_ friend!” 

“Humm.” Bubby hummed, taking his elbow off the glass so that he could just float for a moment. “Tommy…?” 

“Yeah?” Tommy asked, holding a metal rod over the concoction that he had made in the beaker. 

“What is the… _point_ … of a person?” 

The rod in Tommy’s hand wavered for a moment. “That’s... a big question.” 

“I guess it is.” 

“Well,” Tommy plunged the rod into the mixture. “I suppose that would be up to the person? My point- my purpose as of right now is to make Sunkist.” 

“Isn’t your… _point_ … at this company to make the immortality device?” 

“I guess- that's is- I suppose-” Tommy took a breath. “I suppose some points are forced onto us? Sometimes? I don't like working here, but I need a job and- and they need _me_ too. I wouldn't exactly consider it my _purpose_ …” 

“Your point… your purpose as you have deemed it... is to make an immortal dog.” 

Tommy shrugged. “For now, I guess. Before that it was to become a scientist. And before that it was to find… well… _that_ doesn’t matter to me anymore. Sometimes my purpose is big: like inventing immortality - and sometimes it’s small: like making myself dinner and watching TV - or going outside and petting someone else's dog. Sometimes I don’t think- I’m not sure if I have a purpose, but I keep going, you know?” 

“...no,” Bubby replied, honestly. “I think I _have_ a point. Or perhaps I just _prove_ a point. I didn’t get to choose it, though.” 

“I didn’t get- I didn’t choose much of my life either. I’m only really beginning to find- to make choices now, to be honest.” 

“I…" Bubby swallowed to try and clear away the growing creak in his voice. "I don’t think I’ll be making my own choices for a _long_ time, Tommy.” 

Tommy nodded, slowly, with an air of understanding so painfully strong that Bubby almost choked. 

“If you could do... anything in the world... what would it be?” Tommy’s words came out methodically and clear, one slowly pronounced word at a time, as if quoting a script. 

Bubby thought for a moment. “Sometimes, when I can’t sleep, I think about being in space.” 

“That’s a good- that’s a great aspiration!” 

“I’m not going to make it there though. Not until things change.” 

“Things will- things do change. I promise.” 

“Well, I’m begrudged to admit it, but you are the expert on… _life out there_. You really just might be brighter than you look, kid. Not more than me though.” 

Tommy smiled. “That’s why they hired me. I read books, and I _know_ many things, some more than I should… uh… uh…” Tommy paused his stirring. “Sorry, I forgot- I didn’t ask your name after you asked mine.” 

Bubby chewed the inside of his cheek for a moment, before shrugging. “I call myself Bubby.” 

“That’s a good name!” Tommy complimented as he resumed stirring. 

“Really? I mean, of _course_.” Bubby pushed a hand against his chest. “I picked it out myself. It was the first word I ever said, I’ll have you know.” 

“Neat. My first word was soda. That’s what my- that’s what I was told.” Tommy visibly wilted for a moment, his stirring momentum slowing for just a beat before picking up again. “It’s nice to meet you, Bubby.” 

“Likewise. It’s too bad I can’t give you the pleasure of shaking my hand, but a name exchange will have to do.” 

Tommy syphoned the liquid out of the beaker with a small syringe. “Well, maybe we could- maybe we can’t shake hands but…” 

He paused for a moment as he pushed the contents of the syringe into the little tube with Sunkist inside. The liquid grew just a tiny bit lighter. He slipped the tube back into his inner breast pocket. Bubby tapped his toes against the floor of his tube while he watched Tommy clean up his work area, awaiting the conclusion to the man’s sentence. 

Tommy brushed off his lab coat as he approached Bubby’s tube. He pressed his palm against the outside of the glass, giving Bubby a goofy smile as he met his eyes. Bubby glanced between his hand and face for a moment, before finally catching on. 

He pulled his arm up and leaned back so that he was floating straight up. If it weren't for the green tint in his vision and the lack of feeling the floor beneath his feet - not to mention the hospital gown - he could almost imagine he had simply met this man in the laboratory. That he had simply spent an hour having a philosophical discussion with a colleague, or perhaps… 

Bubby reached his hand forward and placed it on the glass, right up against where Tommy had his. Tommy’s fingers were much shorter than his, his palm so much rounder, so the hands didn’t really line up all that well. 

Bubby had been touched before. Handled, really, was the more accurate way to describe it. A grab on the arm to pull him in a certain direction, a hand on his shoulder to push him in another. It wasn’t until now, with three point five inches of glass between his hand and Tommy’s, that he truly felt he had made human contact. 

“Nice to meet you, Bubby.” 

“Nice to meet you too, Tommy.” 

Tommy pulled away first, stuffing his hands casually into his pockets. He began to slowly walk the radius of Bubby’s tube. Bubby lightly kicked his legs as he drifted after him. 

Tommy paused, his back facing the exit door. “I’ll come- I’ll ask for permission to visit.” 

“Neat.” 

“They'd have to let me- you have to meet my dog, when he’s ready.” 

“I would gladly honor your dog with my presence.” 

Tommy giggled, straight up _giggled_ , at that comment. Bubby felt something move inside his chest. 

Tommy turned a bit and side walked towards the door. He flicked the lights in the lab off, leaving himself as a framed silhouette in the doorway. “Bye, friend! Have a good night! Dream about space!” 

“Buh-” Bubby started, before his brain caught up with the second word of Tommy’s farewell phrase. The door slid closed, and the lab was dark. 

“Bye… _friend_.” Bubby sounded out the word as if he didn’t know if he liked the taste yet. He felt like it might grow on him. 

He did a backstroke and flipped himself onto his back, his head hanging upside down behind him. 

He saw something, barely visible through the dim green glow of the liquid he was in. As usual, his handprint had been washed away by the sanitization cycle of his tube. However, there was still a print, translucent and round, smudged against the outside of the glass. 

He pushed himself over to it, resting right-side up with his elbows against the glass, his legs dangling - loosely and partially bent at the knees - beneath him. He traced the print with his eyes, slowly blinking as his eyelids grew heavy. 

As he slept, he began to dream of stars, of tracing out the formulas and fractions of rocket science within the constellations. In the center of it all was one constellation that wasn’t full of numbers. It was in the shape of a hand. 

The next morning, one of the scientists would comment to the other, wondering why their creation had chosen such a strange position to sleep in. 


End file.
